


dinner until you wrestle it up

by baekhyun (baruna)



Series: friendly maneuvers [3]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Family Dinners, Family Reunions, Humor, M/M, Short One Shot, Sly af Laurent, read the other things before reading this one pls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 14:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6614176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baruna/pseuds/baekhyun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was absolutely, utterly, a rhetorical question that needed no reply. Damen <i>knew</i> that Laurent was intelligent enough to deduce so.</p><p>Which meant that, for some strange reason, Laurent <i>wanted</i> to see Damen’s family. This included his Vere-hating father, his jealous, angry brother Kastor, and his overprotective friend Nikandros (who conveniently did not like blonds, for reasons unknown).</p><p> </p><p>Or, Laurent attends Damen’s family dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dinner until you wrestle it up

**Author's Note:**

> A snake lurks in the grass. [Virgil]

It was Laurent’s fault. Damen had brought it up as a courtesy— I’m-dating-you, you’re-my-boyfriend, want-to-come-to-my-family-reunion?

It was absolutely, utterly, a rhetorical question that needed no reply. Damen _knew_ that Laurent was intelligent enough to deduce so.

Which meant that, for some strange reason, Laurent _wanted_ to see Damen’s family. This included his Vere-hating father, his jealous, angry brother Kastor, and his overprotective friend Nikandros (who conveniently did not like blonds, for reasons unknown).

Damen shuddered at the thought of any of them meeting Laurent. The only one who would have been kind and congenial was his mother. But alas, she had been deceased since his childhood. There was no easy solution to this situation. Laurent the pit-viper assured that, at least. Damen wanted to sigh.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go?” Damen mentioned, tentative. “It’s spring break, after all. Auguste will be lonely.”

Laurent’s mouth tightened. “Jokaste is visiting during break.”

Damen stared uncomprehendingly.

“Jokaste is visiting my brother for the entire break.” Laurent emphasized, pained. “I would rather not.”

“Ah.” Damen said, with dawning understanding— he rectified his earlier statement. Auguste would most certainly not be lonely; not with his girlfriend there. The only thing Jokaste enjoyed more than spending time with Auguste was teasing Laurent with biting barbs. Seeing them together was a mental clash between skilled swordsmen; there was no physical activity, but it still felt like a battlefield. Yet they were friends, in their own way.

Laurent was perfectly capable of competing with her on equal footing, but Damen privately thought that he enjoyed it far less than she did.

“Still,” Damen tried again, “I don’t think my family is a preferable stress-relieving alternative.”

Laurent waved his arm. “It’s fine.”

“My Uncle Makedon will be there.” Damen’s voice was strained, and he thought that if he couldn’t stop this, he could try asking Auguste later for help.

Laurent shot him a hard gaze. “Damianos, I said it’s fine.”

And that was that.

 

 

It was Auguste who pulled Damen aside first, before Damen could say anything at all.

Auguste said, “I don’t think this is a good idea.” The lines at his temple were serious, his mouth firm and hard.

“Me neither.” Damen said. “Can’t you persuade him otherwise?”

Auguste shrugged, tugging at a pinned sleeve. “Once Laurent puts his mind to something, it’s impossible to change his mind.”

“Well,” Damen said, mildly annoyed at how useless Auguste was, though he wasn't much help himself, “Thanks.”

Looking increasingly sympathetic to Damen’s plight, Auguste patted him nicely on the back.

“It’ll be fine. Laurent can take care of himself.” He comforted. Damen frowned.

“Than why did you tell me it was a bad idea?”

“Anything Laurent does without me is a bad idea.” Auguste’s face was still serious, but his eyes were playful.

Damen slapped him on the back of his head and rolled his eyes, even though Auguste was only partly joking. He hated the Vere’s, he really did.

 

 

They arrived on Saturday afternoon.

Nikandros took one long look at Laurent, then one at Damen. His head slowly, mechanically turned towards Laurent again. Laurent quirked a devious smile at him.

Then, Nikandros dragged Damen off to the side very quickly. Too quickly, in fact. It was somewhat disorienting.

“He’s blond.” Nikandros articulated slowly, “And he’s a Vere.”

“Look, I don’t know what your problem is with blond people, but—”

“Makedon hates Vere’s.” Nikandros said, louder this time and overriding Damen’s voice. “I don’t think you’ve thought this through.”

Laurent was near the car, one slender hand swiping at his phone casually. He raised an eyebrow at them from afar. Nikandros looked unstable.

“I have thought this through!” Damen said, desperate to defend himself. He glanced at Laurent, who was suppressing a look on his face. The bastard could probably hear them.

“We’ll see.” Nikandros replied ominously, and shot a dark glower at Laurent, who waved at him.

 

 

Laurent picked at his pasta meticulously and delicately twisted his fork, chewing in an elegant motion. All eyes seemed to be drawn on him. Kastor speared a piece of sausage violently, scowling all the while. Makedon was eating ravenously, but his eyes were boring holes into Laurent’s face. Theomedes didn’t even attempt the pretense of eating. He was unabashedly looking at Laurent.

Only Nikandros politely tried to maintain conversation whilst consuming his meal— but he was getting ignored by half the table, and Damen was replying half-heartedly to him, part of his attention on the ongoings of the table.

Laurent was taking all of it in stride. His demeanor was cool, and the arch of his cheekbones cut through the judgmental stares with ease. He replied to Nikandros with calm, placid certainty.

“Well,” Nikandros said, sounding desperate that the only person genuinely replying to him was Laurent, “I think that housing is quite overpriced.”

“I have to agree,” Laurent said smoothly, “my brother has been negotiating with contractors to construct new housing. But there is, of course, the problem of space in a downtown area.”

“Your brother?” Makedon asked dangerously, after a solid chew. Theomedes was silent. “The one who negotiated the latest deal to take back Delpha Corporations?”

There was a slight pause.

“It’s Delfeur Corporations, now.” Laurent said mildly. Kastor looked unusually enraged for a family dinner. Nikandros kept looking at Kastor's fork, as if in fear that Kastor himself would become unhinged and spear Laurent angrily.

Damen took a moment to collect himself, and questioned the higher powers for their situational placement. Why was it that he was the one sweating nervously while Laurent was sitting there like a calm statue? Was he purposefully trying to incite the rage of Damen’s family?

“Arrogance.” Themoedes finally spoke up. “The deal has not fallen through yet.”

Laurent tilted his head. “But it will.”

Nikandros opened his mouth in futility at the same time Makedon slammed his wine cup on the table. “Ok, that’s it boy.” Makedon rasped, and stood up. Kastor looked about one second from doing the same thing. Laurent looked tiny in comparison across from them.

“Uncle Makedon—” Damen tried, and Laurent placed a hand on his shoulder. That seemed to enrage Makedon further.

“He and I are going arm wrestle!” Makedon declared.

Nikandros’s eyebrows furrowed. “Arm… wrestle.”

“That’s right.” Makedon said, with a triumphant smirk on his face. “Whoever loses will be forced to concede his dominance.”

“This is ridiculous.” Damen said. “Look at him. Laurent cannot arm wrestle you.”

“Of course I can.” Laurent interrupted.

Damen stared at him uncomprehendingly. Everyone was staring at him uncomprehendingly. It was clear that Makedon had not expected Laurent to agree, as his mouth began to twist.

Laurent said, “Well, shall we do this here or in the living room?”

 

 

They moved as a group to the living room. Damen clutched his cup of wine tightly. His stress was skyrocketing, and Nikandros kept shooting him these glances. It was not appreciated.

Laurent looked completely at ease as he slid down to the floor, resting his arms on the table.

“I am left handed.” Laurent said. Damon’s eyebrows furrowed. Laurent was definitely not left-handed. The liar. Kastor made a face as if to say a snide remark, but he held himself back, a smirk on his face.

“No matter. We shall wrestle with our left hands, then.” Makedon said triumphantly. He had no qualms about a change in the rules— it was clear that Makedon felt Laurent had no chance in winning. Theomedes was smiling lightly.

They spread their arms and clasped their hands. Laurent’s grip was relaxed, and Nikandros swallowed nervously before counting down. Damen thought he was going to die.

“Alright, ready… start!”

Immediately, Laurent’s wrist jerked in a strange, quick fashion sideways before his grip tightened. Makedon’s face twisted in sudden pain and Laurent slammed his left-hand down onto the table with no struggle at all.

The room was completely frozen, except for Laurent, whose palm reigned upwards on the table. Nikandros’s jaw dropped. It was perhaps the most humiliating defeat for Akielos Damen had ever seen, and Damen felt thick with shock.

No one moved.

“Shall we drink, now?” Laurent asked.

 

 

“How.” Damen said. “Literally. How.”

Laurent smiled thinly. “What do you mean, how? Don’t I seem strong, my lover? Muscled?”

“Yes, of course. But how.” Damen said, still bowled over with shock. Makedon; who had won weight lifting championships... had lost to Laurent.

Laurent finally rolled his eyes. “Did you know your uncle has arthritis in his left wrist?”

There was a long pause as Damen considered this. “He never told me.”

“Probably because he denies that it exists.” Laurent said dryly. “I could tell from the way his joints protruded awkwardly. It’s easy to exploit if you know how to make it hurt.”

Damen stared. He suddenly remembered his father, after the arm-wrestling debacle, putting his broad hand over Damen’s shoulder. _“That one’s alright.”_ Theomedes had said about Laurent, painfully. Almost as painful as Makedon had looked for the entire night. He probably would need to nurse his shame for an entire week after that dreadful loss.

“Anyway,” Laurent said coyly, “I’d call this family reunion a success. You did all that worrying for nothing.”

“Right.” Damen said fondly, letting Laurent interlock their arms, “All that worrying was for nothing after all.”

**Author's Note:**

> ya'll i am so tired
> 
>  


End file.
